


Warning Signs

by nartes



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Carl Manfred Dies, Dead Carl Manfred, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drugs, Gen, Not Beta Read, Past Drug Addiction, Relapse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:26:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26130364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nartes/pseuds/nartes
Summary: After a year of being clean, Leo goes through the warning signs of a potential relapse.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4





	Warning Signs

He thought he could do it. 

Leo had managed to stay completely clean for almost a year now. No drugs, no smoking, no drinking - nothing. Another sobriety chip to add to his collection of previously failed attempts. There were many 24-hour chips. A handful of monthly ones. As the number on the chip grew, the amount of chips with it carved on decreased. At least this time, he thought, he could stay clean for longer. Beat his record. He knew he didn't like the person he turned into when high; promised his father he'd become a better son; make the most of their final moments together. 

However, that was made harder when Carl passed away the night before Leo was meant to visit. Everyone knew it was coming eventually, though no one expected it to be so soon nor so unexpectedly. Several near-misses provided the renowned artist with an air of invincibility. It was so tempting to give up on his promise since it felt voided, but Leo managed to work through his feelings without turning back to drugs. Perhaps something to do with honoring his dad's memory. No longer would he be known as the junkie son. 

A stint in residential treatment tried to set him on the right path. Unfortunately, when he was released, he felt like a lobster freed into freshwater. Born from the sea, lobsters are meant for saltwater, yet people trying to do good end up killing them with rivers and lakes. Well-meaning intentions can sometimes do more harm than good. He had a lot of free time on his hands afterwards. In the real world, everything seemed to happen at different paces. Too fast when he needed time to catch up and too slow when all he could wish for was that the hands on the clock would tick by faster. He tried to stick to the routine he created in rehab as best he could, along with all the advice they drilled into patients. 

Weekly narcotics-anonymous meetings became fortnightly, then just monthly, and so on until Leo stopped attending them at all. Participating in the recovery program just stopped being as important as it once was to him. He believed that he was doing better than the other people in the group who moped about their lives, better than those who cried about cheating dealers and childhood traumas. Getting away from the pain that infested their souls, permeating through the room, was a form of 'self-care'. At least, that's what he told himself. 

2040\. Things were getting harder. His roommate kept on bugging him about the smallest of things. Unclean dishes. Dust on the shelves. Toothpaste left uncapped. Leo couldn't bring himself to care. It all seemed so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. He felt insignificant. 

Every day it was getting harder to find hope, to remember what he was staying clean for. Himself? Why should he continue his pathetic life sober when others appeared to be so much happier? He grew to despise being around people, making excuses to avoid socializing. Everyone made him feel so uncomfortable, the way they held themselves taller, looking down at him with pity or disgust. 

He became anxious. Restless. At work he started to get snappier, even starting physical fights on a few occasions, earning him several warnings before his eventual suspension. As if that would help things. Without the structure the job provided, Leo started skipping meals and showers. Not on purpose, he just forgot. They no longer seemed important to him. Everyone said he was overreacting but Leo denied these claims. He was reacting normally to losing a job but he would surely find somewhere else if need be. Before falling asleep he would try to convince himself that things will be okay, no longer sharing his worries with others. Not even with his sponsor from the twelve-step program, who was meant to be there for him as someone who has also battled with addiction. Not even he could truly understand him anyway. 

Post-acute withdrawal symptoms. That's what google came up with when he started experiencing tightness in his jaw along with his sleeplessness getting worse again. It said to avoid self-medicating with alcohol or drugs. In elementary, he was told that all medicines are drugs, but not all drugs are medicine. Scared his mum half to death when he came home asking for drugs, before finding out he wanted painkillers for a headache and discovering his new sense of humor.

The pharmacist gave him some melatonin and advice to take up exercise to lower stress. 

Loss. Loss of finance, stability, family, friends, judgement, control, options. It does strange things to people. It became harder for Leo to think clearly and everything was overwhelming him, too bright and too loud. He deleted and blocked his sponsor's number from his phone for good, annoyed by the constant buzzing. Nothing was working nor helping anymore. Fucking pointless. He swore his prescriptions were just placebos. 

Remembering the good times didn't help matters. Maybe he could control it this time, be sure he was safe and responsible with his usage. There was a park downtown near all the shops and every time he walked past it, he was overwhelmed with nostalgia, remembering how good smoking under the night sky felt. Feeling calm and connected with the world for once. 

One day whilst passing that park, there on the swings sat an old friend. It was as if the universe was giving him a sign. A blessing. A cloud of smoke hung around her, disturbed by the giggles. Upon noticing Leo, she marveled at how long it's been since they saw each other, and whistled at the sobriety chip hanging around his neck. She held out the blunt, offering it as a prize. A hit for old times' sake. Just a little bit for fun. 

It was disappointing. Not terrible, far from it, but certainly not as good as he remembered. Leo agreed to meet again, just to catch up some more. She knew what he was going through; she understood him. Those get-togethers became more frequent, along with the offers to take something to lighten the mood, to make things more fun. Declining got harder and harder until he was willingly accepting. It didn't take long for red ice to come back into play, spiraling Leo's life further out of control once again. 

He should have paid attention to the warning signs. 

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I have no first nor second-hand experience of drug use/abuse and so will never know what it's truly like. This fic is based on research I have done through reading advice articles and autobiographies. Therefore, if there is anything I've portrayed badly or you've found a fault then please let me know. Otherwise, I hope you've enjoyed this fic :)  
> My twitter is @gavinfckr if you want more dbh (especially Leo) content on your tl or if you want to message me privately


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